To Teach Us How To Give
by quiet-heart
Summary: A Christmas special. Frank learns a lesson in how to give comfort.


_A/N: and a Merry Christmas to all. This is my version of a Christmas Special. I know this is early but with my work schedual... Anyway, this story is one of three stories that stand alone but can be combined if you read all three CSI stories set in three different locations. Read, review, and enjoy and may the spirit of Christmas find you._

**To Teach Us How To Give**

_One day shy of eight years old_

_Grandma passed away._

_I was a broken hearted little boy_

_Blowing out that birthday cake_

_How I cried when the sky let go_

_With a cold and lonesome rain_

_Mamma smiled said don't be sad child_

_Grandma's watching you today._

Eight-year-old Joey Tremont was chatting away with his mom in their car as she drove to his soccer practice from school.

"And then Mr. Saunders showed us a really cool beetle that was _huge_ and had giant grippers," Joey said eagerly, discussing his science class field trip to the local museum. "He said it was a Hercules beetle, a member of the rhinoceros beetle family that grows in the tropical regions! It was almost as big as my hand!"

"Sounds like you had a lot fun at the museum," Mrs. Tremont said, smiling at her son's obvious eagerness even as she made to cross the intersection when the light turned green.

Then something bad happened.

Joey turned his head in time to see a big white truck heading straight for them and then there was a loud crashing noise and things turned in to a blur of color, noise, and pain. He was sure he heard screaming but wasn't sure who was doing the screaming or why.

Then everything stopped and Joey's world went dark.

Detective Frank Tripp was in the car behind the little blue Plymouth Neon, on his way back to the precinct from a court case he'd just testified in. The jury had found the defendant guilty of first-degree murder, to which he was satisfied with. It had been a difficult case but it was over and that was what mattered.

Lost in his own thoughts, Frank watched as the Neon, with the little boy bouncing eagerly in the back and apparently chattering away at the female driver, moved forward due to the green light. He was about to do so himself when he slammed on his breaks as a white Dodge Ram truck barreled through the intersection and slammed head-on into the driver's side of the Neon and kept on going. He watched in horror as the little car was violently spun around, glass and metal flying everywhere before finally coming to a stop, having done a 270-degree spin so that the car was now in the same lane that the truck had come from.

Frank had his cell in his hand and had dialed dispatch before he was even consciously aware of having done so.

"This is Detective Frank Tripp! I need medics on the intersection of 119th Avenue and 67th Street STAT! There's just been a vehicular impact and there were two known occupants of the car that was hit, one of 'em being a kid!"

"_Paramedics on the way,_" the dispatch officer replied calmly. "_Do you require medical assistance, sir?_"

"I'm fine, but get me a couple of guys down here because I got a partial license plate and a vehicle description of the bastard that hit 'em," Frank shot back, bolting out of his car and rushing to the Neon to see what he could do to help.

"_On their way._"

The first sound Frank heard was the whimpering of a frightened child. He looked in the backseat and spotted the tow-headed young boy, blood on his face from the flying glass, stunned, but mercifully alive. His seatbelt had saved his life.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said of the woman, possibly the boy's mother. Frank didn't have to even check for a pulse to know that she was already gone. The driver's side of the car had taken the brunt of the impact and she probably died upon impact. Netherless, he checked anyway. No pulse. He swore silently and then turned his attention to the boy, who was in the back, on the passenger side of the car. This position was probably what had saved his young life.

_Cause there's holes in the floor of heaven_

_And her tears are pouring down_

_That's how you know she's watching _

_Wishing she could be here now_

_And sometimes if you're lonely_

_Just remember she can see_

_There's holes in the floor of heaven and she's_

_Watching over you and me._

When the world came back to Joey, it was full of pain and confusion. A man with dark hair and a receding hairline had his head in his window and was looking at him with concern. That's odd; why was his window missing? He was sure it had been up before.

"Hey kid, are you okay?" the man demanded, reaching to check his face, which hurt too.

Joey whimpered in pain. His whole body hurt. There was something wet on his face too. Why? What had happened? Where was his mom?

"Where's my mom?" he asked.

Something flashed on the man's face and he said, "Let me worry about your mom, okay? The paramedics are on the way and we need to get you out of here, okay?" Joey nodded. "Can you move?" Joey tried and nodded again. Nothing felt broken, just sore in a lot of places, especially his face. "Okay, I'm going to try and get this door open and we're going to get you out of here, okay?"

"What about my mom?" Joey asked.

"We'll get to her as soon as possible," the man assured him, grunting as he struggled to get the door open. It finally opened with a screech of metal, a sound that grated on Joey's ears. It was not a nice sound.

Frank eyed the smoking engine of the car nervously. There was a possibility that the car might blow and he wanted to get as far away from the car as possible, in case it did blow. Yeah, he knew he probably shouldn't move the boy in case of internal injuries, but with the way he was moving and the way the engine was smoking, he knew it was a risk he had to take.

Frank dove in the car and began to fight with the boy's seatbelt. It was an adult-style one and had a chest-strap as well as a waist strap, which had probably saved the boy from smacking his head against the back of the passenger seat of the car. Luckily the buckle hadn't been damaged and he was able to unsnap it.

"What's your name kiddo?" Frank asked.

"Joey," Joey said.

"I'm Detective Frank Tripp and I'm going to get you out of here," Frank said. _What the hell was taking the medics so damn long?_ he thought. "I need you to put your arms around my neck so I can lift you out of here, okay?"

Joey nodded and did as bid. As carefully as he could, Frank lifted Joey out of the car and away from it, trying to turn so the boy didn't see his mom. It was not a sight he needed to see, not at his age. He got Joey to the curb, away from traffic, which had been stopped due to the accident. He could hear the sound of sirens drawing nearer and soon saw the flashing lights several blocks down the street. It was the cops and what looked like a fire truck. But where the hell were the paramedics?

Frank took off his coat and carefully placed it around Joey, trying to keep him warm, noticing he was dressed in shorts and shirt of a soccer team. It looked like he had either been on his way to soccer practice or was coming back from soccer practice. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, which he pressed to a nasty cut on Joey's forehead in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Mr. Tripp, where's my mom?" Joey asked again. "Why isn't anyone helping her?"

How the hell was he going to answer this? Joey was going to find out sooner or later and it was not going to be easy no matter what happened.

He sighed heavily. He'd give it his best shot, pretend it was one of his own kids he was talking to.

"Joey, I'm sorry, but your mom's gone," Frank said. "She's beyond any help."

"Wha-what do you mean?" Joey whimpered again, his eye filling with tears as he struggled to comprehend what Frank was saying.

"Your mom had to go, Joey. She had to go to Heaven, I'm afraid," Frank said, even as his own eyes smarted.

"But why?" Joey demanded, tears now rolling down his face. "Why?"

"Because the accident was so bad that," Frank fought back the lump in his throat. "That Jesus knew there was no way we could save her, that we could help her, not without her being in a whole lot of pain. So He took her to Heaven, where she wouldn't be hurting anymore."

"But I never got a chance to say good-bye!" Joey protested, crying.

"Sometimes, Joey, we don't get a chance to say good-bye to the ones we love," Frank said. "I know it's not fair, but that's just the way it is sometimes."

And Joey cried as Frank held him, rocking him and comforting him as best as he could, feeling his own heart breaking.

And then it started to rain. It was a gentle, light rain, almost like a mist more than a rain.

_Seasons come and seasons go_

_Nothing stays the same_

_I grew up, fell in love_

_Met a girl who took my name_

_Year by year we made a life in this sleepy little town_

_I thought we'd grow old together_

_Lord, I sure do miss her now_

_But there's holes in the floor of heaven_

And her tears are pouring down 

_That's how I know she's watching _

_Wishing she could be here now_

_And sometimes when I'm lonely_

_I remember she can see_

_There's holes in the floor of heaven and she's_

_Watching over you and me._

"I wish my mom was here," Joey whimpered, snuggling close to him, tears sliding down his face. One of the firefighters had placed a warm blanket around the pair of them, noticing that Joey seemed to be clinging to Frank, who had flashed his badge at the firefighter, who simply nodded in understanding. Behind him, out of Joey's sight, someone had placed a yellow plastic sheet over the body of Joey's mom, hiding her from the view of prying eyes and preserving evidence until the coroner could come and get the body and Crime Scene Investigators could start processing the scene.

A shadow fell over them and a gentle voice asked, "But Joey, don't you know there's holes in the floor of Heaven?"

Both Frank and Joey looked up. Standing in front of them was a woman in an ankle-length coat in light grey Dupioni silk, with a deep round hood that sheltered her face from the rain. Frank swore there was a bit of a glow around her, like warm sunshine was radiating from her, but that wasn't possible; it had to be a trick of the sun.

The coat also had a Mandarin collar, fitted bodice, and was held shut by dark grey Chinese frogs. The sleeves were wide trumpet sleeves that went to all the way to the backs of her hands and were edged with wide dark grey lace, as was the hood. The collar, bottom of the coat, and edges of the coat opening were edged with thin dark grey piping that matched the color of the lace. When she sat down beside Joey, gathering up her coat slightly, Frank could see dark grey boots peeking out from under her coat, boots that had a bit of a heel on them. Somehow, despite the dampness of the rain, her curly brown hair hadn't gone frizzy on her.

There was something peaceful about the woman, something that made everything seem like it would be okay, despite the devastation of the accident.

"What do you mean?" Joey asked, confused, looking at the newcomer.

"Your mom's watching you right now, sweetie. That's why it's raining; because she can see you and she's crying because she wants to be here with you," the woman explained gently.

"You think so?" Joey asked hopefully.

"I know so, sweetie," she replied, smiling warmly at him. She reached out and gently stroked his face, wiping away his tears.

The paramedics finally arrived and descended upon Joey like a swarm of flies, taking him to the waiting ambulance. Lieutenant Horatio Caine arrived in his Hummer, as did M.E. Alexx Woods and CSI Natalie Boa Vista. It was several minutes before Frank could head to the ambulance to see Joey again, after giving Horatio and another officer what little he knew, including a vehicle description and the partial license plate he'd managed to spot before the truck had been too far away for him to make out the plate.

During all this, the woman in the grey coat vanished. Try as he might, Frank could not spot her again. How the heck had she moved so fast and where had she come from? And how had she known Joey's name?

Then his attention was drawn to Joey and all thoughts of the mysterious woman left his mind.

Joey sat in the ambulance, looking lost and alone, huddled in the blanket as he was. The paramedics had cleaned up the laceration on his forehead and placed butterfly bandages on it, which would hold it until he could get it stitched up.

"Which hospital are you taking him to?" Frank asked one paramedic after identifying himself.

"Grace Memorial Hospital," the paramedic replied. "Unfortunately we're going have some trouble since the kid's admitted that his dad is out of town right now."

"That's my problem," Frank said. "I'll do what I can to find his dad and get ahold of him and get the necessary information."

"Thanks," the paramedic said.

Then Joey looked up and spotted Frank, the one familiar face in a sea of strangers.

"Mr. Tripp!" Joey called.

"Be right there, kiddo," Frank called back. He turned back to the paramedic and said, "Listen, would you have any objection if I came with him? I'm a familiar face and right now…"

"Good idea," the paramedic said, glad that someone was willing to help the boy. He felt sorry for the boy, having learned that the boy's mother had been killed upon impact. That was a hellava blow for any kid at any age.

Frank quickly spoke to Horatio and gave him the keys to his car, which Horatio promised he would take care of, as well as attempting to locate Joey's dad, giving the detective a small smile in understanding. He had a soft spot for kids, just like Frank did, he knew.

At the hospital, Frank stayed with Joey as the doctors and nurses checked the boy over and then waited in the waiting room as they settled Joey in for twenty-four hours of observation. A nurse had promised Frank she would let him know when he could see Joey again, having noticed the boy clinging to the what was probably the only secure and safe thing in Joey's life right now.

In the waiting room CMT was on and showing a music video by a country artist Frank didn't quite recognize. But it was the song that caught his attention. CMT identified it as being "Holes In The Floor of Heaven" by Steve Wariner.

Well my little girl is twenty-three, I walk her down the aisle. 

_It's a shame her mom can't be here now_

_To see her lovely smile_

_They throw the rice, I catch her eye_

_As the rain starts coming down._

_She takes my hand, says, "Daddy don't be sad_

'_Cause I know Mamma's watching now."_

A quiet swishing noise caught the detective's attention and he stuck his head around the corner in time to see a flash of grey fabric disappear around the corner. He went around the corner but the hallway was empty. What the heck? He was dead certain he'd just seen someone walk by. Then he remembered the woman. Who the heck had she been and why had the firefighters said that Frank and Joey had been alone when he was positive a woman in grey coat had sat and talked to them, telling Joey about the holes in the floor of Heaven. Thing was, try as he might, he couldn't remember what the woman looked like even though he'd looked at her square in the face. Was he going crazy or was something else at work here?

_And there's holes in the floor of heaven_

_And her tears are pouring down_

_That's how you know she's watching _

_Wishing she could be here now_

_And sometimes when you're lonely_

_Just remember she can see_

_There's holes in the floor of heaven and she's_

_Watching over you and me._

Frank smiled as a quiet sense of realization came over him. He decided this was one situation that did not warrant an investigation and was simply best left alone. Someone Upstairs was looking out for Joey and that was good enough for him, even if he didn't completely understand it all.


End file.
